


Suburban Safe House

by Winchester_with_Wings



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Balto - Freeform, DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do Not Translate, F/M, Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Jealous Bucky, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Smut, Tickling, Wrestling, stuffed animals, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7353403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You bring Bucky to a safe house but you fail to mention that it’s actually your childhood home. Bucky finds pictures of you and your high school boyfriend. And then he sees the stuffed animals on your bed. [sexy times ensue]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suburban Safe House

[ **inspired by this gif set** ](http://bbuchanann.tumblr.com/post/141446606104)

This quiet house in a quiet neighborhood isn’t exactly what you’d label a “Safe House.” Technically…yes…it’s a very safe place. But S.H.I.E.L.D. would never think to set up a safe house in the suburbs. Perhaps that’s why it’s the best place for you and Bucky right now. 

[](http://bbuchanann.tumblr.com/post/141446606104)

No one will think to look for you at your childhood home.

You don’t even bother to tell Bucky.

But right from the moment you walk in, Bucky looks uncomfortable. Your parents have a different taste for interior decorating compared to Tony Stark back at the Avenger HQ.

Your father’s dog, an overweight labrador, is outside in the backyard. Your mother’s cat, a soft tabby named Rudy mews at your entrance to the abode and comes trotting into the room, jumping up on furniture and begging for attention. But not from you, no. Rudy wants Bucky’s attention. Bucky is looking around the room, his waist is lined up with the back of the couch in the living room and Rudy is on the back of the couch, walking back and forth, rubbing up against Buck’s abdomen.

“He likes you,” you giggle. Rudy reaches out a paw and tugs at Bucky’s shirt, one claw catching on the fabric. Buck reaches out with his left hand and the cat is completely fascinated with the vibranium alloy on his cybernetic arm. Bucky has just one finger pointing at the cat, gauging his reaction. Rudy sniffs his metallic finger, licks it, and then turns his head into the finger, using it to rub against. Bucky then decides to smooth his whole hand over the back of the cat.

“Why are there animals in a safe house?”

“Someone has to live here to keep up the front,” you respond, thinking on your feet. Telling him that it’s your parent’s house makes you feel vulnerable. You’re only here because there was no other choice.

“Where are they now?”

“I called ahead and told them to go out. That we needed a place to lay low.”

“Oh okay,” Bucky nods, looking around the room. You hope he doesn’t look too closely at the pictures around the room. You inhale a deep breath and grimace. Bucky frowns at you.

“I need to take a shower. So do you,” you gesture at yourself and Bucky. You’re both covered in sweat and grime. There’s some blood too but it’s not yours. You head for the kitchen and fish out a first aid kit from the pantry. “Here, you’ve got a few cuts. Put some bandaids on them.” You toss him the first aid kit. He catches it against his chest and scowls at you.

“I don’t use bandaids.”

“Hmph,” you chuckle, “Suit yourself.” You gesture for Bucky to follow you upstairs. You point towards the guest room and bathroom. “There’s a bathroom down there. A change of clothes should be in the dresser.” Your father keeps spare clothes in the guest room since your mom takes up most of the dresser and closet in their room. “I’ll use the one over here.” You jut a thumb over your shoulder at your childhood bedroom; Bucky doesn’t know that thankfully and he won’t find out. “Meet you down in the living room in about twenty?” Bucky nods and walks with heavy footsteps. Miraculously, he’s not leaving muddy footprints in his wake.

 

* * *

 

Your shower probably ends up being twenty minutes in itself. Your hair is a knotted mess and it takes two tries with conditioner to make it even slightly manageable. Also, an inspection of your naked body reveals that any blood on you was not yours. You’re relatively unscathed considering the way you and Bucky had only just nearly escaped the mercenaries downtown.

You slip into a pair of sweats from high school and a old t-shirt. You leave the bathroom attached to your bedroom, rubbing your damp hair in your towel. You come up short when you find Bucky standing at your dresser, a picture frame in hand.

“Buck! What…what are you doing in here? I said we’d meet downstairs.” You tug on the hem of your t-shirt. It doesn’t exactly fit you anymore. Bucky sets down the picture and looks up at you. The look on his face is amused.

“You took too long.” He looks you up and down. You let the towel in your hand shroud your exposed skin between your waistband and your shirt. “Either they go the extra mile personalizing safe houses…or I’d say we’re in your childhood home…” Your silence is answer enough for him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because…it didn’t matter.” You try to sound nonchalant. Bucky just scoffs, clearly disbelieving. His attitude annoys you so you speak out of spite. “Well, if you must know, I wanted to avoid just this. It’s personal. We’re partners. _Teammates._ Not friends.” That seems to sting because Bucky’s cocky grin disappears and now he’s frowning. He holds up a picture, it’s one of you and your high school boyfriend.

“Was this your prom date?” he asks. You nod. “I bet you were Prom Queen.” You snort at his assumption. He notices more pictures of you and your date. “So was this your boyfriend?” Is that a hint of jealousy in his voice, you’re hearing?

“Yep. We were…what would you old timers call it? Oh um…going steady. For six years.”

“What happened to him?” Bucky sounds like he’s expecting some tragic story but you just shrug.

“We went to different colleges and drifted apart. A year or so later, I was recruited for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Oh,” Bucky mumbles. He looks like he’s about to go through some more pictures on your wall.

“Okay, okay enough. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You didn’t need to see my room from when I was a teenager. So stop snooping.” Your use of the word ‘snooping’ makes Bucky chuckle. He takes a seat on a trunk in the corner of your room, a red and a contrasting lavender wall behind him. You sit down on your bed, crossing your arms over your chest. You’re slouched over so the t-shirt looks like it fits.

“I like it.” Bucky breaks the silence between you two. “I mean, I obviously don’t know any of this,” he gestures to the teen magazine pictures and posters on your walls of flavor of the month teen heartthrobs and boybands. “But I like it. You don’t often share personal details with the team,” Bucky mumbles. You scowl at him. As if your preference of N*Sync over the Backstreet Boys was the kind of information you’d share with the Avengers.

“Look who’s talking,” you accuse. Bucky laughs. He points to something over your shoulder. You see that he’s looking at one of the many stuffed animals posed in your bed. Your mom had made up your room like this after the last time you visited which was too long ago. You fondly observe that all the toys are next to their assigned buddies. As a kid, you’d decided some of your beanie babies liked some more than others. It was a regular plush Romeo & Juliet some days.

“Can I see that?” He’s specifically talking about a large, round, fluffy ball that resembles a wolf. You grab it and hold it to your chest.

“No. You can’t touch Balto,” you say sternly.

“Who’s Balto?” You hold up the plush ball. As expected, he looks at you like you’re a weirdo. “What? Why? Where did that name come from?”

“It’s an old animated movie from when I was younger. He was half-wolf, half-dog. And everyone was afraid of him. They only ever saw the wolf in him,” you frown and Bucky laughs but there’s a flicker empathy there in his eyes too. You recognize it because you’ve hardly ever seen it; Bucky tends to hide his emotions. The sadness is gone in a heartbeat as Bucky extends an arm out towards you with an open hand.

“Can I see it? Please?” he pleads, all semblance of the hard warrior disappearing as Steve Roger’s best friend and classic lady charmer emerges. He’s giving you a warm grin to melt your stubbornness.

You sigh and crawl forward towards the edge of the bed, stretching out your arm and handing it over. You think for a split second it looks like Bucky might’ve been watching you instead of Balto. Oh god. Did he just see down your shirt??

You watch him closely as he looks it over. His hair is nice and clean; it’s shorter than it was when he first joined the Avengers. His bangs are still long though so he’s constantly running his fingers through his hair. He’s wearing a grey cotton t-shirt and a pair of navy blue sweats. And his left arm, at the moment, is camouflaged. Once Bucky had his mind to himself and was able to trust his cybernetic arm, Tony was able to update it, giving his metal arm the ability to look like normal flesh.

Bucky chuckles, bringing you out of your daze and reminding you to stop staring.

“Did you ever use him as a pillow?” he asks, rubbing the fur-like fabric all in one direction. You confirm his suspicion. He squeezes it to his chest and stares off across the room. “Did you keep him with you when you slept? Held him to your body?” His voice is low and husky, implying a different implication. But surely you’re just reading into it right? Yes, Bucky is one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid eyes on and sure…maybe you’re not bad to look at too…but there’s no way that Bucky is talking to you with the intention to turn you on, right? Intentional or not…it’s working.

“You mean did I spoon with my stuffed animals?” You try for some levity to break the tension that you’re _totally_ imagining. The smirk he gives you says he knows he’s being ridiculous but there’s still a dark glint in his crystal blue eyes. “Maybe, when I was younger,” you answer. Bucky’s eyes dart over to your wall of pictures.

“Did you sleep with _him_?” he asks, pointedly. He definitely sounds jealous this time. What right did he have to be jealous? It’s just like you said, you’re teammates, not friends and certainly not lovers.

“Um…yeah, I did. He was a serious boyfriend. He was my first. God, Bucky! Again with the personal questions…” You throw a pillow at him and it hits him in the head. He doesn’t even try to duck. He runs his fingers through his hair to keep his bangs out of his face. He holds onto Balto even tighter now, threading his fingers and squeezing him to his chest. You hold out your hand, silently demanding he give the stuffed animal back.

Bucky looks at the wall again. “You’ll never get this back.” He looks right at you with a serious face, “You have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers.” The corner of his mouth twitches like he’s struggling to keep the serious face.

“Give it back!”

Bucky squeezes your childhood toy again. It looks like he’s not using full strength so it’s not like the toy in any danger but Bucky’s defiance is frustrating.

“Come and get it,” he replies, issuing a challenge with his own wolfish grin.

You lunge off the bed towards him. Bucky braces himself, the stuffed animal acts as padding, caught between your two bodies as Bucky tumbles to the ground. He fights to keep his grip on the plush toy while you claw at his hands.

“Give it!” you grumble, but Bucky only laughs at you. You try to trap him in a headlock but Bucky is far better at fighting than you’ll ever be and he breaks the hold, twisting and turning, trying to beat you in this sudden wrestling match.

“No,” he growls back. “It’s mine now.” Could he be any more childish?

At one point, you’ve got his head between your legs, your thighs squishing his face. Seeing Bucky’s chubby cheeks turning red is funny enough to break your concentration and then Bucky has his arms around you. When you can look at his face–sometimes you can’t because he’s right behind you–you see a dazzling smile. You’ve never seen it before. His voice even cracks once or twice while laughing.

He starts to tickle you, at first it’s on accident—his fingers dancing over your ribs and a little too close to your armpits–then once he realizes what he’s discovered…he keeps trying! He tickles you as you squirm, trying to get free. You twist your body, push at the solid wall of his chest though your will to fight is dwindling. You squeal when his cold metal fingers touch that strip of exposed skin above your waistband; the camouflage program on his arm has turned off during Bucky’s distraction.

Your only chance to tickle him back is now too, especially since he’s got such thin layers on. He grunts and does an even better job at stifling any ticklish laughter. You find his ticklish spot by sliding your hand under his shirt and dragging your fingernails along his ribs. Bucky snorts and his arm clamps down against his side, pinning your hand. He freezes, his body becoming dead weight.

Bucky’s hair frames his face as he stares down at you. His whole body is parallel to yours. His hips lined up with yours. Your legs are parted slightly, if only so his knees aren’t rubbing against your own. His eyes are sparkling, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. His smile starts to waver as you both become aware of the position you’re in.

Your stuffed animal has been cast aside, forgotten in your scuffle.

Bucky’s pupils become dilated, his lips slightly parted. He’s never been this close to you before. Your hand on his bare ribs feels electric, like sparks are passing between your fingers and his skin. You slowly remove it and Bucky entwines his fingers with that hand, pressing it to the floor. His other hand slides up your side; it’s intent is no longer laughter. You release a shaky sigh.

There’s a fire in his eyes and it’s not the devious and wicked one that had spurred on the wrestling. It’s something far more dangerous, something you recognize but haven’t seen in a long time and definitely something you’d never expected to see in Bucky’s eyes when trained on you. It’s pure lust.

You’re sure the desire is matched in your own gaze. It’s hard not to let your imagination run wild with a handsome and powerful man on top of you. Bucky’s metal hand–the one that had previously been moving up your side–is now trailing down to your hip. His fingers dig into the outside of your thigh as he guides your leg and hitches it up to his hip. You’re more open to him now, his hips situated perfectly between your legs.

“What’s happening right now?” you breathe. Bucky doesn’t answer. He leans in and you tilt your chin up. His lips ghost over yours, gauging your response. When he notices how your lips seek his, hoping to make the connection, Bucky’s lips slant across yours.

His lips move slightly out of sync, like he’s trying to get the hang of kissing once again. To your recollection, you’re not aware of Bucky having any sexual partners recently, if at all in this century. He actually yields to your control, letting you take the lead in deepening the kiss.

You capture his lower lip between your teeth and suck on it, your tongue tracing a line along his swollen pink lips. One flick of your tongue on his upper lip is teasing enough for Bucky to growl and battle his tongue with yours, licking into your mouth and nipping at your lips as well.

Bucky’s hand releases yours so that both of his hands can take ahold of your waist. He grinds his hips into yours, the thin and loose fabric of sweatpants leave little to the imagination. Bucky swallows your moan, replying with deep, victorious chuckle. His fingers are digging into your flesh. It’s right there on the threshold between painful and pleasurable bruises.

You still have a little fight left in you from earlier. You hook your leg behind Buck’s knee and push, rolling the two of you so that you’re on top now. Bucky grunts in disappointment, not for losing his position as the one on top, but more like disappointment in himself for allowing you get the drop on him.

You’re straddling him now and you try to hold his arms above his head. You continue to kiss him passionately, albeit a little sloppy. Your attention is directed more to your hips. Your sex is right on top of him. Even through the sweatpants, you can feel how hard his cock is, laying flat against his lower stomach. You roll your hips, sliding yourself up and down his length. Even with the clothes between you two, his cock is positioned perfectly between your folds. Bucky moans, his eyes drifting shut at the pleasure he’s experiencing. He plants his feet on the ground and thrusts up, almost dislodging you from your seated position.

“I need to touch you,” he snarls, tearing his lips away from yours. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Of course, if his desire was so strong, he could break your grip on his wrists above his head in seconds but he seems to like being under your control. You know that shows a great deal of trust in you on his part and you respect that. You’re inclined to make him beg though.

You kiss along his lightly stubbled jaw. You drag your teeth along the shell of his ear. “How badly do you want to touch me, Bucky? How often have you thought about it?” you purr.

“All the damn time,” he growls. His cybernetic arm whirs, recalibrating and preparing to overpower you.

“Where do you want to touch me?” you say in a husky whisper. You nip as his earlobe. Bucky’s hips jolt up in response and you’re knocked off balance. He seizes the opportunity to dislodge your position and rolls over on top of you again.

Thank god you have so much floor space in your childhood bedroom; you and Bucky are rolling around like like a pair of horny teenagers groping at each other and sharing fervent kisses.

Bucky answers your question without words, roughly pushing your shirt up your body. The carpet burns against your skin as you wiggle to assist him in pulling the shirt over your head. He tosses it across the room and drops his head instantly to start kissing and sucking marks into your skin along your throat, collarbone and your heaving chest.

He’s squeezing your breasts, pushing them up and then hooking his fingers in the cups of your bra to pull down and free them. His mouth takes one breast, while his metal hand massages the other. Having cold metallic fingers pinch and roll your nipple is a sensation you’d never thought would happen, and you’ll never forget it.

“You’re skin is so fucking soft,” Bucky moans. “I could kiss and lick every inch of you,” he says, emphasizing his point by nipping at the supple flesh of your breast; at the same time he grinds his hips into yours again. You’re aching between your legs and you need some kind of relief. Humping Bucky through a pair of baggy sweatpants is only a step above humping a pillow and it’s not enough!

“Then why don’t you?” you goad him, running your fingers through his hair. Bucky chuckles, coming up to peck you on the lips before trailing kisses down your body; removing his shirt in the process. His teeth graze your ticklish spots and you tighten your grip on his hair in response. Bucky seems to like that. As his descent continues, you can’t help but picture his head between your legs, giving you a whole other reason to pull on his hair.

You don’t have to imagine for long.

Bucky removes your panties and sweatpants in one fell swoop. His hands runs up and down your legs before he inches down and hooks your legs over his shoulders. He smirks up at you as he faces the apex between your legs.

His right hand comes up to part your folds. He slides two of his fingers up and down your slit, slicking up his digits. You moan when he runs them over your clit. Bucky pulls his fingers away and teases you, blowing a stream of air on your dripping sex. He runs a finger over the very faint landing strip of pubic hair on your mound.

“I love this,” he comments, kissing the inside of your thigh and then kissing you just outside of your lips. He’s so close. You need his mouth on you! You try to grind your hips against his lips, making his mouth touch your aching center. He chuckles when he notices you doing this. “Is this what you want, Y/N?” He flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your sex. He curls his tongue at the last second, flicking at your clit. You let out a delicious and loud moan, befitting any decent porno.

Bucky hums appreciatively, liking what he tastes. He’s lapping at your juices, at your clit, at your entrance; his tongue probes you, dipping in and out of your entrance while his thumb rubs circles around your clit. It’s the perfect way for him to make you climax, tasting all that you have to give.

Then he inserts two fingers into you, forgoing the prelude of just one finger. He stretches you, pumping his long, thick fingers in slow strokes. You pull on his hair, holding him there as you grind your hips against his mouth.

“Fuck, yes, Bucky. Oh my god…”

His metal hand splays out over your lower belly, making you stay still. He sucks on your clit, rolling it around with his tongue. He curls his fingers inside you and grazes your g-spot at a relentless pace, making your already sensitive body climax a second time.

Bucky nips at the inside of your thigh. His pink lips are swollen and glistening with your wetness. He licks his lips as he crawls up your body. Your hands release his hair and slide over his shoulders and down to his biceps which you squeeze; of course only one gives under the pressure, you’re not strong enough to dent metal.

Bucky’s cock is straining in his sweatpants, bulging and rubbing against your naked sex. You reach down and palm him through the fabric. Bucky’s head drops to your shoulder as he moans and pushes himself into your hand.

“Mmm,” you hum, “Oh Bucky, baby, you’re so fucking hard,” you say, just barely at a whisper. “I wanna see your cock. Wanna touch it. Taste it. Feel it inside me.” Just the idea of it shoots pleasure through your body, making you arch your back and roll your hips into his. He can only moan in response. Your hand on his dick has rendered him speechless. He’s at your mercy and it’s easy enough to make him roll over again.

You straddle his thick thighs and plant your hands on his solid pecs. You run your blunt nails down his body. Bucky Barnes is a beautiful specimen of a man with rigid muscles and strong hands but a gentle touch. His metal arm doesn’t even phase you. It’s a part of his body all the same, despite it’s composition.

Your fingers trace his happy trail of hair, pulling down his waistband inch by inch until you can free his cock. You stroke him a couple of times before your hunch over and wrap your lips around him. Bucky hisses and winces at the sensation.

“Unnffffuck…oh God Y/N, your mouth feels so good.” Bucky’s hand tangles in your hair, taking ahold of a handful. He starts to thrust up into your mouth but it’s not long before he’s pulling on your hair, forcing your retreat. “Don’t wanna come this way,” he explains, tugging on your hand to bring you back up to kiss him. He snakes his arms around your waist and rolls over again. Seriously!? Will you and Bucky always fight to be on top? You know…if this happens a second time…

Bucky hovers over your body, his legs nudging your legs to open wider. He pushes at his sweatpants and boxer briefs with one hand, pushing them down to his knees. His dick is bobbing between your bodies. With one hand wrapped around the base of it, Bucky teases your clit with his cockhead.

He looks around the room for whatever reason, probably more focused on the pleasure he’s feeling and giving you rather than what he’s looking at. But then his eyes come to rest on your wall of pictures from high school, including those pictures of your old boyfriend. A muscle in his jaw clenches. He teases you by pushing on your entrance but not actually entering you.

“He was your first?” Bucky asks as a reminder, referring to your high school boyfriend. You nod. You refrain from telling him that the same anxious butterflies from that night with your ex have returned with a vengeance and are completely focused on Bucky. “Did you two have sex right here in this room?” he growls, starting to sound jealous.

“Maybe…does that matter?” you ask, biting your lower lip. Bucky grinds his teeth and looks down at you with a possessive stare. He juts out his jaw.

“Not anymore. This room is ours now. You’re mine,” Bucky grunts as he thrusts into you, filling you the the hilt instantly. You cry out with pleasure and your back arches off the ground as you’re filled and stretched out. Bucky thinks fast and grabs that ball of a stuffed animal you’d fought over earlier. He sticks it under your lower back. Your hips are raised off the ground by the pillow-like toy and your legs are wrapped around Bucky’s waist as he drives into you. “Ughh, shit!” Bucky hisses, tossing his head back. His hands are on your hips guiding his thrusting and pulling you onto him. “You feel so goddamn good. So tight,” he says through clenched teeth. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours.

You can hardly speak, the only noises coming from your mouth are wanton moans and whimpers. You cup your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. It doesn’t last long because you’re both short of breath.

More than once your eyes drift shut, practically rolling back into your head. You come on his cock two more times, practically in a row. Your whole body spasms uncontrollably. The stuffed animal rolls out from under your body and then you’re lying flat on the floor. Bucky’s thrusts are relentless, making your breasts bounce until you take a hold of them. You like squeezing them yourself, pinching and pulling at your nipples.

“Yeah Y/N,” Bucky whispers. “Touch yourself, baby. Show me what you like.”

What you don’t like, though, is the rug burn you’re feeling on your back.

As Bucky thrusts into you, you grab his ass to stop him. He stays buried deep inside you. He looks over your face, a sudden concern in his eyes.

“Bed?” you pant. Bucky nods. When you release your hold on his ass (seriously buns-of-steel worthy), Bucky pulls out all the way. He picks you up off the ground effortlessly and carries you to the bed. He sheds the pants around his ankles next. You crawl farther onto your bed and it’s when your back is facing him that he sees the red irritation on your skin from the carpet. He trails his fingers up and down your spine, kissing your shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. You roll over on to your back to look up at him. You bring him down into a deep kiss.

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay,” you reassure him. Which is true because it’s just an irritation, no real lasting damage. “Bucky?” you whisper, placing light kisses along his cheekbone.

“Hmm?” Bucky’s taken this pause to slow down, caressing your body as if he’s an artist and you’re clay that he’s molded into the perfect woman. You cup his cheek and press a soft kiss to his lips. One of your hands moves down to stroke his cock. He’s still hard as marble.

“I need you. I need more. Please?” You line him up with your entrance. “Make me yours.”

Your words ignite the fire in his eyes again. He pushes into you slowly, rolling his hips in long and deep strokes. He picks up the pace at your behest, snapping his hips forward.

This next time you come, he’s rubbing your clit with his metal fingers, which glide over the bundle of nerves smoothly once lubricated with your juices. Your thighs are quivering, your toes curling. You’re trying to hold back the orgasm, letting it build and build.

You’re wound tighter that a spring and your vision goes white when you finally climax with a loud moan tearing itself from your throat. Your walls clench around Bucky, a constant pulsating sensation while he continues. A couple of hard thrusts send him over the edge, prolonging your orgasm even more as his hot seed spills into you.

Bucky collapses on top of you, a panting and sweaty mess, much like yourself. You both hold each other close, breathing and heartbeats synchronized. You feel a little dazed–mostly likely from the multiple orgasms–but also disbelieving.

Did this really just happen? Yes. Did you and Bucky just forget who you were and give into the pleasure and feelings you’ve both been harboring for each other? Yes. Was that a bad thing, though? No. Not at all.

After some cleaning up, you and Bucky fall asleep on your bed for maybe twenty minutes. The feeling of having your back pressed to his front while he drapes an arm over your waist marks this as the best nap you’ve ever had. You roll over at one point, changing your status as the little spoon to face him. Bucky lazily opens his eyes.

“I think we both might need to shower again,” he suggests with a chuckle. You giggle and agree, brushing some of his bangs out of his face. Bucky fingers caress your bare shoulder, at first drumming on your skin and then his entire hand encircling your bicep and he pulls you in closer to kiss you.

The kiss is broken and you’re instantly alert a second later as you hear a door open and close. You both sit up straight and listen for intruders.

“Y/N? You still here?” your mother calls out from somewhere downstairs.

“We know you wanted us to stay out for a while but we wanted to see you!” your father adds.

“Your parents?” Bucky asks with an amused grin. You nod, mortified. You get out of bed and start to put on some clothes. “Hey, Doll?” Bucky stops you, taking hold of your hand. You look at him. “I think we’re moving too fast. I can’t meet your parents just yet. Not until we’ve been together longer than a two hours. Maybe at least a day?” Bucky chuckles, running his fingers through his hair.

“You think we’ll last that long?” You smirk at him. He knows you’re testing him.

“Oh I’m counting on it lasting a _very_ long time.”

“Good answer,” you say, giving him a lingering kiss. “I’ll get rid of them. Just stay here…but maybe put on some clothes, just in case.”


End file.
